Chapter 39

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Samuel's POV

The anger sat in my chest like a hot coal that refused to cool. No matter how much time passed, no matter how many strategies I planned or how many steps I took towards my revenge, I couldn't shake the fury that burned beneath the surface. Fiona had betrayed me—her words still echoed in my head, a relentless reminder of just how stupid I'd been.

But it wasn't just her betrayal, it was her father's, Jake Bruckner's, legacy of destruction that had ignited this war inside me. She was just another pawn in his sick game, and I was done being fooled. My heart was closed off now, and I would do whatever it took to destroy the Bruckner empire, even if that meant dragging Fiona down with it.

I'd been tracking Bruckner for months, each step closer to taking him down, but every time I thought I had him cornered, he slipped away like smoke through my fingers. My men had recently reported that his drug warehouse had been emptied and relocated. I wasn't surprised—Bruckner had always been one step ahead, anticipating every move I made. But that didn't stop the rage from boiling up again. I was getting tired of this game.

I stormed into my office at the safe house, my mind spinning with strategy. Lyle was already there, standing near the large map that took up the entire wall, with red pins marking Jake Bruckner's known locations and operations. His face was calm, as usual, but there was an underlying tension. He knew better than anyone how high the stakes were now.

"Where is the new location?" I barked, slamming my hand down on the desk.

Lyle didn't flinch. He never did. He was used to my temper by now. "We're still looking," he said evenly. "Bruckner's gone to ground, but we've got our men back out there. They'll find it."

"Find it faster," I snapped. "I want that warehouse shut down. I don't care if we have to tear the city apart. He's moving his drugs and weapons somewhere, and we're going to cut off every last route."

Lyle nodded once, sharp and efficient. He knew what needed to be done. "We'll find it," he repeated. "But there's something else. Mrs. Kincaid is requesting another meeting. She says she has documents for the next shipment dates."

I leaned back in my chair, my mind already turning over the implications. Mrs. Kincaid. Another one of Bruckner's partners, and a dangerous one at that. She had her claws in the shipping industry, using her company as a front to transport drugs and weapons across borders. And I was now deep in her world, pretending to be her ally, but secretly plotting her downfall as well.

"Set up the meeting," I said. "I want those shipment details. Once we have them, we'll disrupt every single operation she's running. This ends now."

---

The next day, I met Mrs. Kincaid at an exclusive restaurant downtown. The kind of place where the elite gathered to sip expensive wine and discuss their dirty business deals. She was already seated when I arrived, a predatory smile playing on her lips. Her long, manicured fingers drummed against the table as she motioned for me to sit.

"Samuel," she purred. "I've been expecting you."

I sat down across from her, my expression unreadable. I knew how to play this game—keep her close, let her think I was on her side, all while plotting her destruction. "Mrs. Kincaid," I said smoothly. "You said you had something for me."

Her smile widened, and she slid a thick envelope across the table. "Shipment dates," she said. "You'll want to keep these close. These shipments are crucial to the operation. If anyone were to... interfere, it would be disastrous."

I picked up the envelope, my eyes scanning the details inside. Dates, locations, cargo manifests. Everything I needed to tear her operation apart. But I kept my face neutral, giving nothing away.

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